After the End
by ForestRuins
Summary: All it takes is one event and your life is changed forever. Pepper Potts. A piece of shrapnel. A new arc reactor is born.


Disclaimer: I do not own Ironman. This is fanfiction.

A/N: Based on the trailer for the Iron Man 3 movie and a brief wiki search on Rescue. Not necessarily true to the universe, this is just a plot bunny. Enjoy.

* * *

She was huddled on the cold floor of the bathroom, her back firmly against the porcelain tub and her body curled over her legs. She was shaking and gasping, head furrowed into the crook of her knees and fingers digging into her calves. She wouldn't be surprised if she drew blood and viscerally, she craved for it.

She could feel it, right in her chest, the barely perceptible humming of constrained energy—of power—rooted in the cavity of her slight frame, gracing her with every breath of life—bitterly reminding her of her promise with death.

She cringed sharply at the scrape of metal along the marbled counter. Her shoulders stiffened. Her breathing labored. She willed the cup to stay put.

The cup shook.

She grabbed it, wrenched the door opened and flung it with all her strength. She slammed the door shut before she could see it clang against the wall of the recovery room, far beyond caring of the brief glimpse of scattered items through the threshold.

She gripped the edge of the counter hard, eyes flashing dangerously as she looked upon herself for the second time that night. Her skin was of a sickly pallor, an unnatural white in contrast with her bright hair, and her eyes rimmed red and lined with dark bags of unrest. She could read panic in them. Panic and revulsion and trepidation.

Her eyes fell to the arc reactor in her chest and she was unable to control the shudder that ran through her frayed nerves. It glowed a soft white, almost blue, through the thin material of her white gown, innocent in its appearance—pure unbridled power at its source.

She shouldn't even be alive. She had parts like something out of a science fiction movie. Like… like a cyborg.

She brought a quivering hand to the grafted device, the features of her face slowly twisting into one of fury.

The electromagnet—it did something to her. It made her do things normal human beings could not. She had given Tony's report a thorough once over; he had only done the basic framework. He planned to add _enhancements_. He wanted to ensure that Pepper was more than okay. Only Pepper wasn't sure if she could handle more.

She let loose a low, dark chuckle, bordering carelessly on a sob. She didn't understand why this was happening to her. Why it had to be her.

Two days ago, she had been fine.

She awoke from surgery with little to no complications, Tony was there at her bedside, and she had survived the unspeakable. But he told her that there had been an explosion and a piece of shrapnel had gotten into her bloodstream. He did the only thing he could to save her.

Pepper, though slightly foggy from the meds, immediately knew what he had done but had not recognized it for what it was. She knew it was there. She could feel it.

But at the time, it was the least of her worries. Her Tony was okay. He had made it out and this overwhelming elation staved off the settlement and turmoil of mind wrought, crushing trauma.

She had cried and kissed him, whispering loving words and he, promises and resolutions. It was a reunion for the books.

And everything had been fine until it wasn't.

The news slowly sank and festered in the dark recesses of her soul as the days passed. The ramifications frightened her. The inherent capabilities of possessing—wielding—an arc reactor, the erasure of her value as her former self, the undefined duties now bestowed upon her, and the glaring target etched onto her back.

She was just like Tony but she didn't want to be. She never liked what he had to do. Fighting scared her and the thought of inadvertently inflicting pain reared a crippling and whimpering mass within her, one she often masked when the suit came hovering home riddled in bullet holes and deep gouges. She may have worked at a weapon manufacturing company but behind the frontlines was where she excelled, not the nitty-gritty and rough and tumble of—she just wasn't Tony. He was strong and courageous and despite all his egoism and wiseass remarks, he did it out of the good of his heart.

He was up for the armor suit.

It was his.

Not hers.

"Pepper?" A tentative rap of two knocks came at the door. "Is everything okay?"

She wanted to say no.

But this was Tony. He had more than enough on his plate, had sacrificed more than she could ever ask for from him.

"Pepper? I'm going to break down this door if you don't answer… because judging by the state of this room…"

She mustered whatever semblance of control she had left and shakily reached for the handle. She turned it slowly and heard him step back with bated breath. She looked up bleakly, catching his warm but concerned eyes with resignation.

"Tony…? I'm okay…" she whispered hoarsely. The door inched forever in the heavy silence, the light from the bathroom pooling into the dim of the adjacent room.

He regarded her softly before stepping close, the toes of his red slippers tickling the toes of her bare ones. "Come here."

He grasped her wrist and tugged her into a loose embrace, hands gently smoothing over her form in search of harm. She flinched but allowed herself to nestle into his comfort, sinuses prickling but mostly glad of his presence.

"Was it another nightmare?" His hands had settled around her waist, his mouth just at her ear.

She nodded, rubbing her cheek against his neck. The images were inescapable in her sleep and she would wake in sweat and a heart intent on ripping free from her torment. She just couldn't _deal_ and a small part of her understood that her issues were seeping into her construct and leaving her vulnerable to the easy encroaching lashes of anger, destruction, and blame.

"And… and how are you holding up with…" He brushed his fingers against the magnet, caressing it with an air of reverence and all the fragility of a flower. He considered the expression on her face, his eyes absent of the usual mischievous twinkle but ever knowing all the same.

She released a hollow breath, holding in a sob with restraint. "JARVIS?"

"JARVIS," he repeated. He pulled back to peer at the mess in her temporary recovery room. "I can only guess what you're feeling. We may have been through similar experiences but we did come from different lives."

"Tony, I'm a blubbering mess right now. I don't know what to think or what is to come. I just want things to make sense." She tapped her forehead against his collarbone in frustration, not enough to hurt but enough to get the message across.

He steadied her by the shoulders, ducking slightly to catch her troubled gaze. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a sad smile. "I want to show you something."

He led her over to the bed to take a seat and made his way over to the cabinet in the corner. He riffled through the contents with eerie focus and Pepper could only stare in bafflement as he pulled out several sheets of blueprints. He spread them over the white covers beside her, arms crossed as she scanned over the clean lines and orderly notes.

"Your design is not based off the schematics of mine but rather Rand's. It's a battery, not a weapon." He watched her carefully. "I wanted you to know this at least."

She ran the edges of her fingers along the paper, stopping on the sketch of the arc reactor. Non-weaponized. As long as it remained in the right hands.

"I'm not saying it makes it better but Pepper, I couldn't lose you. Not when I know how to save you."

She grasped his arm in a comforting gesture. "Tony…"

"I figured this was the best alternative. I know you didn't want to wake up as the next sensation, as Iron Woman or something less tasteful." A pause. "But I'm not going to lie—I did outline a suit for you once and it was sweet. JARVIS might still have it if his memory isn't too banged up."

She let out a short, thick laugh. "Of course you did."

"Hey, it was sexy and I needed a change of pace from working on the army studs." He shifted closer and wrapped his arms around her, content to perch his scruffy chin atop her head. "Peps, it's going to be okay."

She tightened her grip on his shirt. "It's going to take time," she murmured.

"I know." He rubbed her back. "But I'll be right here with you."


End file.
